


like moth to a duck

by thebeanunderthecorner



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Duck Newton, Bugs & Insects, Campaign: Amnesty (The Adventure Zone), Cryptid Hunting, Cryptids, Duck's like 26 in this one, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Meet-Cute, Moths, Sleepy Cuddles, Sort Of, Special Interests, Texting, Trans Duck Newton, Younger Duck Newton, breakdown depictions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28365828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeanunderthecorner/pseuds/thebeanunderthecorner
Summary: Duck Newton's finally found a guy he'd like to get to know better, but he's afraid revealing his special interests may have just  scared this one away.---Indrid Cold has secrets he'd prefer to keep quiet, but this new guy almost makes him want to share them all. Almost.
Relationships: Indrid Cold/Duck Newton
Comments: 14
Kudos: 16





	1. talking

Indrid Cold had secrets. Ones he daren’t say aloud. The fact that he could see possible futures was bad enough, but he definitely didn’t want news of his natural Sylph form getting out to the humans. No one needed to know that he was what the locals called the Mothman whenever he wasn’t wearing his glasses. And no one ever needed to know that his mothy form wasn’t as intimidating in the daylight as his figure suggested in the dark. It turns out that southern flannel moths aren’t the most imposing of creatures. In fact, they’re quite the opposite, a fact that Indrid had been cursing ever since he’d come to this world.

Which is why he was glad Duck never really asked super deep questions about his past. It would be too much all at once to explain Sylvain, the disguises, and his powers to this man he’d just met, even if the futures were looking good. And he kinda liked this one. No. He really liked this one, and he didn’t want to mess anything up by scaring him away with all this… cryptid stuff.

Indrid was sprawled out on his stomach on the little couch in his Winnebago, drawing one of his visions furiously when his phone buzzed. He smiled.

Of course he knew it was going to buzz. He knew it was a text from Duck Newton. He just didn’t know what it was going to say. It could be one of maybe four messages, but he’d have to stop drawing to check, so he quickly finished up his drawing, a quick one of a happy possibility, and opened up his phone.

**Duck: You ever think about how butterflies are the pretty ones and moths are mocked just cause they like light and just wanna exist?**

Indrid laughed. The human never ceased to amaze him. 

He typed out a reply. 

**_No, but I do now_ **

A few minutes passed and his phone buzzed again.

**Duck: I prefer moths though cause they’re just as pretty. And they’re fuzzy.**

Indrid blushed. Even if he didn’t know it, Duck had just thrown a compliment his way. He’d been described as odd, or terrifying, and even off-putting, so “pretty” was a new one for him. 

…

Duck paced the floor, squeezing the squishy he’d gotten from his sister, worried about how Indrid would take his info dumping about moths. A lot of people seemed to tolerate it, at best, or just ignore it. Most people tended to ignore him altogether, and Duck struggled with feelings of inadequacy all the time because he felt like he was being pushed aside because he annoyed them or something. 

He was worried he’d pushed Indrid away after he hadn’t responded in a few minutes. Then his phone dinged.

**_Indrid: That’s true. Tell me more._ **

Oh good! He hadn’t scared the man away! He began formulating a reply. One that didn’t seem like he was over eager to share, but one that didn’t immediately end the conversation.Then he remembered a random fact he’d learned the other day.

**There are cool moths that have wings that blend into the trees they tend to land on. And moths use the moon to navigate, or so I’ve been told, so all the city lights get them all confused and stuff and they think the average light bulb is the moon. That’s why they’re always around the lights that are outside.**

There! Duck hoped his special interest wasn’t going to freak Indrid out, as it had most other guys. Apparently, “being fascinated by bugs is gross,” as an ex of his once put it.

Ding! 

**_Indrid: Huh. That's fascinating!_ **

Yes! A reply! So many had just left him on read before and here he was, actually getting responses. 

**I think it would be fun to have a moth for a pet.**

So far, so good. 

**Or the Mothman.**

Wait. Why did he send that? Now this guy's gonna think he's really weird! 

"Stupid Duck," he said to himself. 

… 

Indrid saw the second to last text and giggled, not seeing the next one come through. 

**_Well, I think you could catch one._ **

He was just thinking about giving Duck a little moth in a bug cage when his phone buzzed again. 

**Duck: I'd try, but I'm not the most familiar with the migration patterns of the Mothman, so that's gonna make it a little tricky.**

"Oh… Oh dear," Indrid said aloud, quite flustered. The futures he saw shifted drastically, sending his head spinning. 

**_Well, yeah, but I bet you could do it._ **

The visions solidified a bit more and Indrid walked over to the fridge for a juice box, phone buzzing on the way there. He waited till he was seated to chance a look at his messages. 

**Duck: But, like, where would I keep him?**

Indrid blushed, coming up with a few good responses, but none that showed as many promising futures as the one he was about to type out. 

**_That's a good question._ **

It really was, and the idea of being captured and held by a handsome human, this one in particular, set something ablaze in him. 

Buzzbuzz

**Duck: 'Cause he's, like, too big to fit in my bed, but prolly too soft not to cuddle with.**

**Hypothetically.**

Oh dear. Oh dear indeed. Indrid knew his Sylph form was soft, and he rarely let anyone know that he was soft. But now, he was seriously considering letting Duck see him in his true form. And that terrified him as much as it excited him. 

…

As far as Duck could tell, Indrid was not entirely put off by his moth fixation. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the new information Duck had supplied. But he was worried about the cryptid mentions. 

One of Duck's other favorite things was cryptids. He went through a Jersey Devil phase as a kid, then switched to Bigfoot and the Yeti as a teen, and now, in his twenties, he was interested in the Mothman. He had posters, hoodies, and a tiny replica of the Point Pleasant Mothman statue, among other things. 

And now he'd just admitted to a cute guy that he liked the Mothman. 

That he wanted the Mothman as a pet. 

That he wanted the Mothman in his bed. 

Oh, gods, what was he doing? He’d finally found someone who seemed to tolerate or even enjoy his rambles, and now he’d insinuated that he was a cryptid-fucker. Who wouldn’t be weirded out by that?

In the middle of his little panic spiral, his phone chimed.

**_Indrid: Haha :) That does sound like quite the conundrum._ **

Duck tried to formulate a reply that sounded smart and not at all creepy, but words didn’t exist in that moment. His fingers started moving independently, sending a text before he knew what he was doing.

**I must track him down.**

Duck smacked his head. Why that? Out of all the things he could have said, he said THAT?! The man was probably running right now.

…

Indrid felt a pang of fear at the latest of Duck’s texts. It felt like a threat to his Sylvain form, but the man didn’t know anything about Sylvain, so how could he know about the… Wait. He didn’t know, so Indrid was safe.

**_Haha yep. You should probably get on that._ **

A safe reply. He went back to drawing one of the futures he could see clearly. It was a nice one, compared to a few of the others he had strewn about his home. He was just putting the finishing touches on it when his phone buzzed again. He hopped up excitedly and reached for his phone. It was from Duck.

**Duck: Sure thing! Can’t have a cryptid for a pet if ya can’t find ‘em!**

Indrid laughed and a new future came to him. One that showed lots of promise, and lots of Duck Newton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the idea for this fic came to me immediately after having a conversation with a guy I was talking to. This chapter's basically our entire exchange, but with more enthusiasm from the person without an interest in moths. The guy was hard to keep up a conversation with because of one or two word responses, mainly 'right' or 'true' most of the time, so I had to spruce up his side of the conversation for this.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked it, leave a kudos and/or a comment if you wish!
> 
> PS: the southern flannel moth is probably the most adorable moth I've ever seen. [ Here it is](https://www.butterfliesandmoths.org/species/Megalopyge-opercularis)


	2. hunting

Duck Newton, forest ranger for the Monongahela National Forest, knew the woods like the back of his hand. So when he got a text from Indrid late at night saying that the Mothman had been sighted in the Monongahela, he jumped out of bed as fast as he could. He’d been joking (slightly) when he’d said he wanted to catch the cryptid, but almost every time he and Indrid went out after that conversation, he’d be given a new piece of “cryptid-hunting” equipment. After ten or so of these gifts, he was well-equipped to take down several cryptids.

Duck gathered his equipment and ran out the door, texting Indrid for the exact location of the sighting as he ran into the forest he knew so well.

…

Indrid Cold had made plans. Ever since he found out how Duck felt about the Mothman, he started giving him gifts that would “help” him “capture” the cryptid. Some of it was jokey stuff, like a NERF gun or a plastic breastplate from what used to be a kid’s Halloween costume (thanks to Jeanie’s Thrift ‘N Gift), but most of the other items were things that were actually useful. Like the giant butterfly net he’d found at Richard’s Outdoor Activity Paraphernalia. He’d sneakily made sure the net was able to fit over his Sylvan form’s head before offering it to the object of his affection. The forest ranger was glad for the cryptid-catching gear and blushed every time Indrid gave him something for his Mothman search. Indrid thought it was adorable and made sure Duck knew it.

The human was so cute, Indrid decided, and he was sure it had been a while since the man had been doted on like this. He deserved to be doted on.

On this night, though, he thought it was time for his precious Duck Newton to get his wish.

He was going to get to catch the Mothman.

…

Duck finally reached the clearing in the woods Indrid’s instructions had led him to and what he saw there made him freeze.

The big dark shadow of a creature stood there with the moon at its back.

“Holy shit!” Duck exclaimed. “It’s really the Mothman! It’s really the Mothman! Holy fuck, ‘Drid was right!”

He took a step forward and the Mothman shuddered right before Duck’s foot crunched down onto something. He looked down at the ground and right underneath his left foot lay a pair of familiar red glasses.

Indrid’s glasses.

Mangled by his foot.

Shit.

He knelt to pick them up, realizing that Indrid must have dropped them as he fled the scene earlier, and he almost didn’t hear the cryptid running into the forest.

Almost.

“Oh no you don’t!” he shouted, taking off after it. His boyfriend’s glasses were tucked in his front shirt pocket in case he had time to return them to their owner.

The Mothman weaved with precision through the trees with Duck hot on its heels. 

Duck paused and pulled out his NERF blaster and fired off a couple foam darts at the cryptid between some trees. Several of them met their target and the Mothman slowed significantly. Duck dropped the toy and readied his net as he got closer and threw it over the creature’s head. It tried to move forward a step, but, with its head trapped, it couldn’t get away. The human threw a tarp over the Mothman with the hand that wasn’t holding the net and the creature went down easily.

Duck cheered internally, silly dreams come true, as he retrieved the rope Indrid had given him from his pack. He bound the cryptid’s feet and multiple arms before hoisting it onto his shoulders with his super strength. He’d forgotten his Chosen One powers were there, but he was glad for them.

They made hauling the Mothman back to his apartment just a slight inconvenience instead of a pain in the ass.


	3. investsigating

Duck set the Mothman on his couch and flicked on the light. He gasped as he got a good look at the cryptid’s coloring.

“Didn’ know the Mothman would be yellow, but he is…” he mused. “An’ he’s so fluffy. Quite adorable if I do say so m’self.” He ran his hand over the fluff on one of the creature’s arms. The Mothman let out a small chirp and Duck laughed. “That? Now that was cute. Only thing cuter than that would be my boyfriend, but he’s not here right now.” The cryptid squeaked. “I’d be tempted to let you out of your bonds, but you ran last time. So I’m just gonna leave you like this.Can I get anythin’ for you? ‘Drid says that some bugs like sweet things, and I’ve found that to be true myself. So, juice? Soda? Sugar water?”

The Mothman made a loud chirp at the juice option, so Duck brought him one of the juice boxes he got for when Indrid stayed over. The cryptid sucked the juice down quickly.

“Now I just have to find out if Indrid’s okay,” Duck said, reaching for his phone. As he did this, the Mothman lurched sideways into Duck. Then onto Duck. 

“Oof! What’d you do that for? I just wanna call my boyfriend! Is that a crime?” Duck pushed the creature off of himself, though not without a struggle, and once again tried to grab his phone.

In the scuffle, the pair of slightly crunched red glasses fell out of Duck’s shirt pocket and onto the floor of the apartment. Indrid the Mothman saw several futures in that moment and did what he had to do.

While Duck’s back was turned, he wriggled his body- wings specifically- towards the set of spectacles and carefully slid a wing under them. He then flipped them up towards his first set of arms to unfold them, then tossed them onto his face, returning himself to his human disguise.

Duck paced the floor, worried that Indrid was not picking up his phone. He always picked up the phone. (Indrid had put it on silent for exactly this reason). In his worry, he paid no attention to what just happened on the floor.

“‘Drid, pick up, please. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. Drat! Voicemail again!” the human mumbled. He dialed again. “C’mon, babe. Please pick up.”

Indrid grinned.

“I would, if I wasn’t all tied up on the floor right now,” he said, scaring the shit out of Duck.

Duck turned around, and sure enough, there was his boyfriend. 

Laying right where the Mothman used to be.


	4. revealing

“Fuck, ‘Drid! You scared me half to death! Wait… Where’d- no… What’s goin’ on? How high am I?” Duck asked.

“No, you’re not high, love. And, yes, I’ve got a lot to explain, but first, I’d like to be free of these restraints,” Indrid remarked coolly. Duck scrambled to his side.

“O-of course! Of course!” he said as he untied the knots holding his boyfriend’s limbs in place. 

The Sylph rubbed his wrists and ankles as he explained about Sylvain and his powers, apologizing the entire time for keeping Duck in the dark for so long.

“I meant to tell you earlier, but in every future I saw, you- I-” he sighed. “It never ended well.” Indrid shook as his boyfriend looked at him with shock on his face. His eyes welled up with tears as Duck just stared. He moved to get up, to leave, because if this was it, this was it, but a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"Duck? What are you-”

The man pulled him into a hug, surprising the seer. Out of all the outcomes that could have come as a result of his explanation, this was one he hadn’t thought to look at closer. Indrid tensed up and Duck released him.

“Duck, why did you do that?”

“I thought that’s what people were supposed to do when their loved ones are upset. I may have been told wrong. Sorry. I’m not good at picking up social cues, but I know I like hugs when I’m sad, so I figured…” Duck looked down and fidgeted with his hands.

“No, love. That was the exact right thing to do,” Indrid said, looking at him fondly. “Just took me by surprise. It doesn’t happen very often, but you, Duck Newton, keep surprising me, a literal seer of the future.” Duck looked back up at Indrid, a small smile forming on his face.

“Hey! I just found out that my boyfriend is the fuckin’ Mothman! And you call a hug a surprise? I’m dating a literal cryptid! How awesome is that?” Duck exclaimed, jumping up and dragging Indrid along with him. “C’mon! There’s something I gotta show you!” He led Indrid to his room and shut the door. “Okay. Stay right there,” he said, making Indrid sit on his bed.

The Sylph watched as Duck reached up into his closet and pulled down a box. Walking over to his bed, he said “Now don’t go judgin’ me or anythin’, but cryptids have been a special interest of mine since I was a kid.”

Duck opened the box and Indrid could see posters and pennants, books and knick knacks, pens and pins. Merch galore, just for the Mothman.

He sucked in a breath.

“Wow,” Indrid said, amazed. “That’s quite the collection of… well... Me merch.” Duck blushed. “Is this why you’re into moths as well?”

Duck shook his head. “Completely different interest. Buuuut… the southern flannel moth, babe? Really?”

It was Indrid’s turn to blush.

“Hey! It was only after I got here that I realized that my true form isn’t the most intimidating!” he huffed. “But I seem to recall someone liking that form.”

Duck feigned shock, or tried to, then laughed. A full and genuine laugh. Indrid smiled.

“I, uh, kinda called you cute and compared you to, well, uh, you, huh?” One hand rubbed nervously at his neck as he came to find his other hand resting on Indrid’s, a sign of affection that definitely wasn’t new to either of them, but one that caught Duck off guard. He looked at their hands, then at Indrid, then at the floor. Indrid couldn’t help but notice.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Duck said, clearly not alright. “Peachy, fuck, uh, pretty keen, no wait, like a, dammit! Like a peach. Fuck!”

“Duck…” 

“Fine.” Duck sighed. “No one’s taken to my special interests very well and you’re the first person in the history of ever to be chill about it. That’s why all my Mothman shit was in a box. ‘Pparently it freaks people out. Didn’ want you thinkin’ I was a weirdo or anythin’.” He looked absolutely deflated.

Indrid carefully placed his hand under the man’s chin and tilted his head up to look him in the face. No eye contact, because Indrid remembered he disliked that, but he looked Duck in the face to let him know he was speaking to him directly.

“Duck Newton, when did I ever say you were a weirdo? Not once have I judged you on anything, besides when playing sport games with your friends. But I have never done anything that would give you reason to doubt my feelings for you. I love that you get excited about flying insects, and cryptids, and skateboarding. I love your passion for your work, and the way you look at your French onion soup like it’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. I love you, Duck Newton, and I would never ever abandon you because of your interests.” Duck’s eyes grew wide at the start of that last sentence.

“You… love me?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh. Oh dear. I did not mean to let that slip like that. I was going to say it while we were out, somewhere nice, but yes. I do. I love you quite dearly,” the silver-haired man said.

Suddenly, Duck surged forward, closing the small gap between them, and kissed Indrid passionately.

“Good. I love you, too,” he breathed as he pulled away. Then he noticed just how close they were, and how horribly messed up Indrid’s glasses were, and how very vulnerable he was in that moment. He sprung up and away from the bed, panic threatening to spill over the edge, just barely kept from overflowing by a mental wall popping up. 

To Indrid, this looked like his boyfriend standing in the middle of his room pumping his fists up and down, clenching and unclenching his hands, looking utterly terrified. He scanned through the possible futures and saw that one where he intervened led to better outcomes down the road.

“Hey hey hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong, Duck?” 

The man didn’t look at him when he heard his boyfriend’s voice, but some of the arrhythmic stimming slowed.

“Broke glasses. Can’t fix. Can’t get new ones. Vulnerable.” Duck stared ahead as he spoke. “Too vulnerable. Too vulnerable.”

“Okay. It seems you’re in a spiral. How do I help you get out of it?” Indrid asked. A few seconds passed. “Would you like me to leave? It’s late and you should be asleep, so I can go home if you nee-”

“Stay. No glasses.”

“You want me to be in my Sylvan form?”

Duck nodded semi-robotically. “Fluffy. Feels good. Soft. Warm.” 

At that, Indrid could see that all Duck Newton-related futures were looking good, so he removed his glasses and set them on the nightstand. 

“Okay. What else can I do?” Indrid asked, stepping towards the object of his affection. Duck turned and gasped, eyes lighting up.

“Mothman cuddles?” he asked. Indrid held out his arms and Duck stepped into them. He hummed a little happy noise as he felt four fuzzy arms encircle him. “Bed?” he suggested, but Indrid was already moving them in that direction.

He carefully placed Duck on the mattress and climbed on after him. The small bed groaned under their combined weight, but it held firm.

“See, babe? I do fit on your bed,” Indrid grumbled, and he swore he heard Duck chuckle as he wrapped his arms around him again. Checking on the futures one last time, he was confident that is boyfriend would be fine, so he let himself relax and focus only on the man in his arms. He laid his head above Duck’s on the pillow.

“Goodnight, my sweet Duck,” he whispered.

“G’night, Mothm’n,” came a very sleepy reply. Indrid’s heart melted as he held his most prized person in his arms. 

He reflected on how he came to know such a wonderful human being and came to the realization that he had been drawn to him like moth to a flame.

Or, rather, like moth to a duck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: The shutting down that Duck goes through is directly based on my experiences with breakdowns as an autistic person. This is not a reflection of the experiences of all autistic persons everywhere, but just the experience of just one person. Every case of autism is different and the way one experiences it is not the reality of another.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! It was really fun to write and once I started, I couldn't stop. There may be a small epilogue, but we'll see about that.
> 
> If you liked it, you can leave comments and kudos at your discretion. I appreciate you.


End file.
